Sheer Submission

by Hannah Ford

  “Yes, sir.”

  “You like being submissive like this, don’t you, angel?”

  “Yes, sir.” My voice was a ragged whisper.

  He spanked me again, hard and raw, and I gasped and bit my lip. Tears filled my eyes, prickly and sharp, but then they were gone, my clit pulsing.

  “Good girl,” he murmured, raking his nails over my skin. My pussy was throbbing, begging for a release. He’d barely even touched me – and I was still wired tighter then I’d ever been.

  His fingers probed the folds of my pussy, and he moved my panties to the side.

  “You are wet,” he breathed. “So sweet.” His finger rubbed over my sensitive fold, and my hands tightened back into fists. I clenched in response to his intrusion, not because I didn’t want it, but because I wanted it so badly that I couldn’t imagine not having it.

  It scared me.

  “You okay, angel?” he asked, and his concern for me was touching.

  “Yes,” I said. “Yes, I’m okay.”

  He slapped my ass again, harder and more brutal than before, and I cried out.

  “Good girl,” he said approvingly. Then he spanked me again, three more blows in total, open-palmed, moving from cheek to cheek.

  When he was done, he pulled me back up so that I was sitting on his lap. “That’s enough for now,” he said.

  “You’re not going to fuck me?”

  “I meant enough spanking for now.” He reached down and slid his finger over the slit in my pussy. “Your pussy is so sweet.” His fingertip breached my opening, just the tiniest bit. “So tight.”

  I closed my eyes.

  I was a virgin.

  But I didn’t want to tell him that.

  I was afraid if he knew, he would decide that I wasn’t worth it, or that he would change his mind about the deal we made. And even though I’d been trying to convince myself that this was about Violet, that Violet was the only reason I was doing this, the truth was that I wanted this too, wanted him more than I’d wanted any man in my life.

  My trysts up until this point had been limited to college tussles, fumblings in the dark that were nothing like this man, nothing like the way he was touching me, spanking me, owning me, claiming me.

  I moaned as his thumb brushed over my clit.

  “You’re ready for it, aren’t you, angel?”

  I nodded. “Please, I just… “

  “Say it.”

  I looked into his eyes. “I want to come, sir.”

  The light in his eyes brightened, and then he began to kiss me again, and I could feel him, through his dress pants, his cock growing hard against my ass.

  I kissed him back, my hands tangling in his hair, grabbing at the silky strands and running my fingers over the smooth skin of the back of his neck.

  His hands trailed slowly over my stomach, down over my ribcage, and then his fingers were moving my panties over, exposing my bare pussy to him. “So wet,” he said, as he ran two fingers over my moist opening. “So ready for me, aren’t you, angel?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  He kissed me again, his mouth enveloping mine as he took control of the kiss, stroking my tongue with his, tangling my legs around him.

  I wiggled my ass against him, trying to let him have some release, but this only caused him to stop.

  He pulled back and pulled his fingers from my pussy. He hadn’t tried to breach my hole again, and instead had been stroking and teasing my clit, rubbing the swollen nub with the pad of his thumb.

  He grabbed my hair and held me back. “I’m in charge here, Ms. Courtland. Do you understand that?”

  “Yes, sir.” It was a moan.

  He placed his arms under my ass then, and slid me off his lap until I was sitting on the bed. He stood up in front of me, his crotch at my eye level. I could see the bulge in his pants, and I imagined his cock springing free, hard and perfect, how small my hand would look wrapped around it.

  “Lie down,” he demanded.

  I did as I was told, scrambling up to the head of the bed and lying on my stomach, figuring he was going to spank me again.

  “On your back.”

  I rolled over.

  He stood at the side of the bed, staring down at me, his eyes traveling over my body. Then he took my wrists and pushed them up over my head, and spread my legs into a V shape. The crotch of my panties was still pushed to the side, giving him a perfect view of my bare pussy.

  “Don’t move,” Landon said. “No matter what I do to you, you will not move. Do you understand me?”

  “Yes, sir.” I licked my lip and closed my eyes, trying not to show him how humiliating I found this, how shameful, and yet how arousing.

  He reached down and pulled down the cups of my bra, slowly so that my breasts were exposed to him inch by excruciating inch. “Fuck,” he murmured. “Your tits are perfect.”

  I bit my lip to keep from saying anything. His hand cupped the mound of my breast, then he moved to the next, pulling down the fabric until my other tit was exposed to him.

  “Your body is so ready for this,” he breathed, then leaned down and sucked my nipple into his mouth.

  I opened my eyes and looked down at him in fascination, watching as his tongue moved around the light brown peak, making it even harder than it was, leaving it wet and glistening with his saliva.

  His teeth nipped at the sensitive tissue, and I cried out and shifted my position, trying to move away from him.

  He released my breast with the hand he was holding it with and slapped my other tit, so hard it hurt.

  And then I remembered his instructions not to move.

  “I’m sorry, sir,” I whispered.

  Landon’s mouth returned to my nipple, one long pull, and when he finally released me, I groaned again.

  He trailed his fingers down my body until he reached his pussy.

  “Your cunt is so ready, angel,” he said, and the dirty words made me close my eyes.

  He must have noticed, because as he’d been doing all night, he seemed to want to push me to do things that I found uncomfortable.

  “Does that word make you uncomfortable?”

  I thought about lying and telling him no, but I also knew that if he knew I was lying – and let’s face it, he would – that he would make my punishment that much worse.

  “A little,” I admitted.

  “Why?” He sounded amused. He was standing next to me still, eyeing me hungrily, his chest rising and falling with each of his breaths. He was still dressed in his suit, the sleeves still rolled up.

  Jesus, he wasn’t even naked yet and already I wanted him.

  I thought about his question. “I don’t know,” I said. “I guess I think it sounds dirty.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it’s a dirty word?”

  Landon smiled at my word games.

  “Do dirty things make you uncomfortable, angel?”

  I squirmed on the bed, until I saw his eyes darken. Don’t move. That’s what he’d told me.

  “No. I mean, I’m not sure.”

  “Who taught you that?”

  “Who taught me what?”

  “That words are dirty.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Because I’m going to tell you right now, nothing about you or your body is dirty, Ms. Courtland. No matter what words I use to describe it or the things I want to do to you.”

  I nodded.

  “You understand that?”

  “Yes, sir.” I nodded again.

  “Good. Don’t move.”

  He left the room then, and when he returned, he was holding a pair of handcuffs. Their metal sparkled under the overhead lights, which he’d left on.

  “Have you ever been handcuffed, Aven?”

  I shook my head. Tell him, I told myself. Tell him you’re a virgin.

  But he was sliding the metal over my cleavage and I arched up to meet it, and then he leaned down and kissed me again, his tongue rubbing against mine, and god
damn, I wanted him.

  He set the handcuffs down on the nightstand.

  “I’m going to fuck you now, Aven.”

  My clit pulsed.

  “I’m going to eat you first, I’m going to lick and suck your pussy until you come on my tongue, and then I’m going to fuck you until you’re sore.”

  He began unbuttoning his shirt, and my pulse raced, my breathing deepening, my skin flushing. Even though I’d already seen him with his shirt off, the anticipation was much more intense this time, because this time, I knew something was going to happen.

  His magnificent body came into view, the grooves of his abs stretching and tightening with his movements. Sweet Jesus. His body had been etched and chiseled from granite, muscles I didn’t even know existed well-defined and smooth. He was strong and broad, but cut at the same time, the kind of athletic body that looked as if it would be just as agile on the tennis court as it was formidable in the boxing ring.

  “Do you know your safe word?” he demanded, and now his voice was gruff and wanting.

  “Champagne.”

  The side of his mouth quirked up into a smile, and I took a moment to appreciate his beauty. Dear Lord, he might have been insane, but god he was good looking.

  He reached my hand up and over my head.

  “I can’t wait to feel that tight cunt wrapped around my cock.”

  I gasped and turned my head.

  “Aven?” he prompted.

  I knew what he wanted.

  “I can’t wait to feel your hard cock inside my tight cunt, sir.” If nothing else, I was a quick study, and I must have earned at least some points for this, because Landon allowed me to have my head turned away as I said it, allowing me the concession of not having to look at him as the dirty words lingered on my lips.

  It’s how I was able to see it.

  Because my head was turned.

  How I was able to see my sister Violet’s scarf, the one I bought her for Christmas last year, the one I saved up three months of work study payments to be able to afford. It was on the floor behind Landon’s bed.

  It was unmistakable, silky and deep indigo and monogrammed with a

  huge V.

  My sister had been here.

  In Landon’s room.

  He knew where she was.

  Had he hurt her?

  It was the last thought I had before the handcuffs snapped around my wrists, binding me to the bed…

  The End of Part One

  Look For Part Two, Coming Soon!

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